


Final Exam Drabbles Spring 2012

by wisia



Category: DCU
Genre: Gen, M/M, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-03
Updated: 2012-07-02
Packaged: 2017-11-09 01:59:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 1,947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/449995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wisia/pseuds/wisia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just drabbles written during finals week. Tim/Kon, Dick Grayson and Ra's/Tim.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Let It Bleed

_“Watch the world. Let it bleed. As I lay here, you took my breath away.” – We break dance, not hearts (Short Stack)_

_  
_

                Tim smelled of blood, metal and sweat. The scents permeated the air, and he couldn’t get it all off. Especially the blood. Even after a hour of scrubbing, the scent still clung to his skin. And Tim punched the wall, below the spray of water running down from the showerhead. He punched it again, his knuckles stinging and skin splitting, and it wasn’t enough. He smashed his fist into the wall again. And again.

                Then, he stared at the red dripping on his hands, turning into pink minuscule rivers. It wasn’t enough.

                Tim turned off the water and got out, drying himself. He pulled on some sweatpants and tucked himself devotedly before his computer. He scanned through the files and made a list. It wasn’t enough.

                But before he could start typing, his chair was a spun an hundred eighty degrees. And he was facing Kon. Kon who was looking at him intently, hands on either side of the armrest. Blocking. Sealing. Trapping Tim between the chair and Kon.

                He looked at Kon. Defiant. Kon stared back, meeting the gaze without flinching.  _Knowing_. Then, “it’s not enough.”

                Tim looked down at his lap.

                “I know,” Kon said tersely, the words stark in the quiet of the room. “I know.”

                That made Tim tilt his head upward. “How do you…” and Tim couldn’t finish the sentence. It wasn’t fair to him. To ask. How did he cope? How did he listen to the world and know he couldn’t do enough? That it wasn’t enough.

                Kon took Tim’s hand into his, and Tim was aware. Too aware of the tingle of pain in it. From smashing a hole in the shower. From it not being enough. Kon lifted the hand to his mouth, and he seared a kiss onto the knuckles, raw and aching.

                “I don’t,” Kon whispered against Tim’s fingers. His breath was hot, smoldering. Kon straightened up abruptly, still holding onto Tim’s hand. Tim stood too, and he followed, feeling shaky as Kon led them up to bed.

                Kon climbed in first, pushing up the window over the bed open and throwing back the curtains. Night wind rushed in and all the sounds of the city. Then, he sat down and gestured to Tim. Tim slid onto the bed. On his knees. On his hands.  _Crawling_. Crawling to Kon because he couldn’t stand.

                And they were kissing, slick tongues and teeth, hands touching, arching and pressing. Tim whined, and they tried so hard to get closer. To meld into one, and he panted for lack of air, but Tim couldn’t stop kissing. Didn’t want to stop.

                Then, as fast as they started, they ended, foreheads pressed together.

                “I don’t,” Kon breathed out heavily. “But I have you. And you lying here and…”

                And Tim understood. He understood, and he tightened his arms around Kon’s neck.

                “I have you.” He really did.


	2. Tea

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the Metamorphosis Verse.

Tim watched as a servant brought in trays of delicious looking cookies, pastries and petit fours. The man spread them out onto the table, accenting the main centerpiece: the tea. Ra’s looked on, in approval, and when the man left Ra’s gestured to the tea.

“Pour the tea, Timothy.”

Tim scowled, hands clenching at the velvety smooth fabric of his skirt. “I am aware I am a female now, but I refuse to act like one. Pour your own damn tea.”

Instead of making a comment about Tim’s feminine like qualities, Ra’s went quite still. The elder man was also quiet, and he was staring at Tim, almost in disbelief. It alarmed Tim, and he unclenched his hands, preparing to bolt for the door if necessary.

“What? You finally realized that I am not a female?” Tim asked. “And you have made a horrible mistake?”

That broke Ra’s out of his reverie, and then he was smiling. It unnerved Tim.

“No,” Ra’s said. “You will never be a mistake.”

He tugged up the sleeve of his coat, hand reaching over for the tea. He poured it into Tim’s cup, steam rising and the delicate scent wafted to Tim’s nose. Then, he poured for himself. “You merely reminded me of something from long ago.”

“Really now?” And Tim wrapped his hands around the cup. It was hot, warming Tim’s hands, but he didn’t drink it.

“Yes,” Ra’s nodded. “You remind me of…my  _first_  wife just then.”

“Lovely,” Tim said dryly. He wondered if Ra’s poisoned it. There was just the faintest glimmer of green in his cup. Tim blinked, unsure and looked at Ra’s. Ra’s was calmly sipping his tea, and that didn’t make Tim feel any better. He tilted his cup, curious…

The cup crashed to the floor, shattering in a splash of heated liquid and porcelain bits. His eyes immediately flashed to Ra’s who was sitting, unperturbed, still calmly sipping his tea. Then, Ra’s set down his cup with a light clink, remarking, “I liked that cup.”

“You put something in my tea,” Tim fired back. He crossed his arms. “How am I supposed to react?”

“By asking me and not destroying one of my favorite tea set.”

Tim snorted. “Like you would answer.”

Ra’s frowned. “I have told you, where you are concern, I will answer. Within in reason.”

Ra’s stroked his chin thoughtfully. “I would not poison the mother of my child. Besides, I am drinking the tea as well.”

“I am not bearing your child.”

“You will,” Ra’s said. “It’s only a matter of time.” Before you succumb to my will was left unsaid. Tim chucked the teapot at him.


	3. Raccoon

Kon poked the skin right below Tim’s left eye. “Dude, you have bags underneath your eyes.”

Tim swatted the offending finger away with an exasperated sigh. “You don’t need to point it out.”

He was slumped in his chair, files in one hand. Tim rubbed his eyes, slightly self conscious. He had only slept two hours the previous night.

“Why not?” It’s not like you’re a beauty queen right now.” Kon poked the tender flesh once more.

“Kon!” Tim tried to smack him with the files. Kon bounced away, darting out of the treacherous files’ way. Those were some dangerous evil papers.

“My bad,” Kon said. “I meant to say you have some  _extremely_  pretty panda eyes.”

Tim glared at him, and Kon rubbed his chin, thinking. “Make that raccoon. They never get enough love.”

A pen flew through the air, hitting Kon on the chest with a light thud. Kon looked at Tim. Tim looked back, not amused.

“You’re lucky I’m made of steel or that might actually hurt.”

“Kon, I will fry you in a liquid Kryptonite bath if you don’t shut up.”

“Sure you will, Raccoon eyes,” Kon scoffed. He pointed at Tim, one hand on his hip. “Now, get out of that chair.”

“Make me.” Tim swiveled his chair back around, files spread on the desk.

And Kon was dragging Tim outside. He had to immobilize Tim with his TTK and manhandled him across one shoulder. Kon smacked his butt. “Don’t even try.”

Tim huffed as Kon settled them down on some grass beneath a tree.

“Isn’t this much better?”

“No,” Tim replied, but he was snuggling against Kon comfortably. He closed his eyes, suddenly feeling sleepy.

“I’m going to miss your raccoon eyes.”

“Shut up.”


	4. The Better Parents

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Because how can dead parents be better?

_“This is the only downside to being a Robin. I have to lie to my dad. I hate it.”_

_“Well, look at the bright side…you have someone to lie to.”_

                And Tim bit his tongue. To keep from speaking. One for guilt (Dick didn’t have his parents) and one for lying.

                “Yeah, I guess so,” he said.

                It wasn’t a guess. Tim knew. And it bothered him. Because his dad was alive.

                He wordlessly followed Dick to the car. Then, involuntary, he burst out, “No!”, halfway settled into his seat. And Dick looked at him in surprised.

                “No, what?”

                Tim blanched, and Dick’s eyes were studying him intently.  _No._  His dad was alive. True. But he wasn’t a dad. Even if the man tried to be a dad now, and Tim wanted desperately for that to be real, to be true, it wasn’t. And he was trying so hard, so he lied and hated lying and his dad may as well be dead. Because...

                “It’s nothing. Just thinking out loud.”

                He swallowed the outburst, forcing it back down. And Tim wanted to scream. Maybe laugh or choke or both. How could dead parents be better than his?


	5. Drift

“Here,” Tim said. He held out a neatly wrapped box to Kon. Kon didn’t take it, and Tim was starting to regret coming at all. But he stubbornly kept his arm in the air. “For your birthday.”

Kon accepted it awkwardly, and Tim wondered if he shouldn’t have bought a gift. That a phone call or email would have suffice.

“Thanks,” Kon said lamely. “I didn’t know you remember.”

Tim shrugged, and there was a moment of silence. It tugged at Tim uncomfortably. He shouldn’t have come.

“Well, I, I should be going,” Tim excused himself at the same time Kon pulled out a chair.

“Already?” Kon’s eyes flicked toward the small clock hanging in the kitchen. And stiltedly, “You. Uh. You just got here.”

“Yeah,” and Tim winced at the creakiness embedded within the word. He cleared his throat. “Yeah. I was only dropping that off.”

Tim stood there, wondering if he should just head straight for the door, but that would be rude, and Kon was still staring at him. His hands twitched, and Kon pushed the chair back into the table.

“I’ll, um, walk you out.”

“That’s okay,” Tim declined automatically. “You don’t need to.”

And he was striding toward the door, hands lifting the cowl and tucking away his locks securely beneath it. He was not going to do this again, Tim swore.

Kon beat him to the exit, speed on his side.

“Thanks. Um, when you have time, let me know. We can hang out.” Kon smiled, and Tim knew it was a poor attempt. He just nodded. “Yeah, that’ll be great.”

He mustered up a weak smile in return. “I’ll let you know.”

When did things become so awkward and stiff between them?


	6. Not So Secret

“Nice try, Kon,” Tim said with a wry smile. He tapped the album in his hand against the doorframe twice and leaned against it.

Kon was stricken. “How did you know?”

Tim tossed the album to him. Kon caught it. “Take a look.”

And there in glaring letters on the bottom right corner on the back of the case read “KON”. Kon blushed. He totally forgot about that, and as if guessing hi snext thoughts, Tim added, “I would have found out anyway. Even if you didn’t forget to take out your name.”

“Well, I—“ Kon colored a harder red. Tim held up one slim hand. “Don’t. It was nice of you to play secret admirer, but it’s not helping.”

Kon stiffen. He cradled the album in his hand, peeking at Tim with one eye.

“I wasn’t joking.”

For a second, Kon thought he heard a faint skip in Tim’s heart, so quick as to not have existed at all. Then, Tim shook his head. “I hope not.”

And Tim left the room. Kon sighed, crushed. He should have just said it. He ran his fingers on the album once more.

_What?_

There was something sticking out. Kon popped it open. There was a small piece of white paper.

Dinner. Friday. 8PM. I’ll pick you up, and quit playing secret admirer. -- Tim


End file.
